Armored Core: Silver Rain
by DemorNine
Summary: Takes place after the defeat of the Controller in AC3. Pent, a troubled yet skilled pilot, begins to uncover his dark past... and it will change everything. Please Read and Review! Rated PG-13 for sci-fi violence and thematic elements.
1. Avant

Please forgive me! I've changed all the chapters once again!!! Sorry, but I've just been playing Armored Core a lot lately, and I found some stuff I liked. So, hate to do it, but I just made the bots and story cooler. You might want to read the stuff again, and the bot design for Pent's Lavaitean changed. Check it out in part 4.

Disclaimer: I do not own Armored Core.  
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Activate thrust, forward, fire MG and grenade. Missile alert, strafe right, small jump. Turn left, opponent near, slash. Disengage.  
  
STOP!, I thought. The real battle was about to occur, though I had already won it in my mind. It was quite good at formulating strategies. I calmed myself, and edged the controls to cause my Armored Core, Lavaitean, to step slowly from the bay. The arena we stepped into was sparsely dotted with trees, but was mostly open.  
  
The open spaces would put me at a disadvantage. My opponent, pilot of AC Excalibur, was known for using a lot of long-range weaponry, and his short- and medium-range arsenal was powerful. The most effective strategy for this foe would be to take advantage of my superior mobility and shift between close- and medium-range quickly, pummeling him with all I have.  
  
I had Dalmin, my AC's onboard artificial intelligence, increase the magnification of my viewing screen. The sun gleamed off of my opponent's silver and white armor, and the effect was positively frightening. He looked like some sort of holy knight, encased in shining plate-mail. His twin missile launchers rose from his back like wings, unfurled and ready to launch his AC into the air. I chuckled at the thought of my opponent's heavy humanoid AC fighting a prolonged air-battle. That in no way made him less of a threat, however. A powerful beam-rifle protruded from his right arm, and an energy shield hung, not yet powered, on his left appendage.  
  
"Dalmin, as usual, you're in charge of visual and audio control. Keep me updated on important changes."  
  
"Affirmative. Query – Master Pent, shall I inform you of enemy structural status?"  
  
"Yes, Dalmin. I want to know when he's hurting."  
  
I depressed my ready button, and the green light on my console shone.  
  
I punched the boost, and shot towards my foe. I immediately fired a grenade round at his position from the launcher on Lavaitean's left shoulder. I also used the machine gun intermittently, releasing controlled showers of bursts in my opponent's direction. I was too far away for either of those attacks to be effective, but it would prick him, and perhaps break his concentration. At the very least he would be on guard, and would be hesitant to launch attacks.  
  
"Missiles inbound. Suggestion – evasion," Dalmin interjected.  
  
I checked my missile readout. There were four missile indicators heading toward my position. Just like I had planned, I adjusted my trajectory to drift to the right. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him evade the grenade round I fired earlier. I escaped the salvo with a few more maneuvers and the help of the KWEL-SILENT extension, and continued to close the distance between us. My MG shots were becoming steadily more accurate, and I had almost reached the range where his missiles were no longer useful. As I thought this, a plasma bolt streaked meters away from my AC's head. Luckily, he had aimed high, and had not led Lavaitean correctly. This opponent would not make that mistake again, however.  
  
I jammed the thrust and darted left as I shot another grenade at him. The round hit him and detonated, a small explosion masking his explosion. Out of the haze, the sound of his rifle firing broke through. He had fixed his aim, and plasma sizzled through the space I would have been in if I hadn't rose into the air a half-second earlier. 


	2. Avant 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Armored Core.  
  
My hands flowed like water over the controls, gently nudging or fiercely jolting them to precise positions. I continued to depress the MG trigger, releasing scores of bullets at Excalibur from the sky. With a thousand projectiles for the one MG, it was impossible to waste them. My AC drifted out of the way of an incoming plasma shot, barely avoiding another one to its left.  
  
This opponent is much more dangerous than the last foe we faced. Lavaitean and I needed to finish this quickly, or we might not be the ones finishing it. All Excalibur needed was one lucky shot, and we would be crippled and vulnerable. I boosted over his head and quickly turned in midair. He attempted to turn when he realized I was behind him, but with my ammunition slowing him and his AC's girth, he couldn't quite keep up with my AC and I set down within a few dozen meters of him, his back still to me. I dashed forward and swept my energy blade at Excalibur's torso. His AC shuddered as a small explosion detonated in its midsection.  
  
I boosted Lavaitean away from our enemy and floated a few meters off the ground, and continued to shoot MG rounds into the crippled AC. One of the bullets must have torn through the damaged radiator, because another explosion went off. Flames jetted from the back of Excalibur, and it staggered forward. It twisted quickly, and fired its plasma cannon at me again.  
  
No! I was too close, and I didn't expect it to recover that quickly. I started to strafe right. Lavaitean still caught a bit of the beam, and it erupted into a small ball-like shockwave as it hit the left arm. The armor meter dropped sharply on the left. The shot must have burnt through a full meter of armor on Lavaitean's forearm. It missed the MG barely, and luckily the arm was still at full operational capacity.  
  
I lifted the MG and pressed the trigger. Bullets ripped into Excalibur, all of them hitting at this close range. The AC bucked and bent as the ammunition entered its body at over 400 meters a second. The generator blew, and plasma streamed from the vents in Blitze's armor. I dashed forward quickly and with two strong sweeps, parted Excalibur's legs from his core. It crumpled to the ground in two pieces, utterly defeated.  
  
Lavaitean, smoking MG in hand, stood victoriously over its fallen opponent. This is nothing new. I have risen in fame through the Arena over the past year, and I haven't lost a match yet.  
  
Some of the warriors fight for pride. Some of them fight for revenge, or for money. I fight because the Arena is all that is real to me. I do not know my real name, or anything more complicated than that about myself. I awoke in Lavaitean about two years ago without a single memory. Maybe I'm fighting because some part of me believes that I can regain my past through the Arena. Or maybe I'm just another skilled neophyte who revels in the art of combat. I try not to dwell on it too much.  
  
The cockpit of Lavaitean is much more comfortable than my flat.  
  
For one thing, the flat is much larger, with not as much metal or other materials to fill it all in. I've heard of claustrophobia, but the opposite occurs in many AC pilots, including myself. The flat also has lime-colored walls. It hurts the eyes, unlike the uniformly gray colors of all AC cockpits. There are also lots of frills: art, tables, and so on, all exquisite and beautiful. To a warrior, however, they serve as distractions.  
  
I pushed through that section of the flat quickly. In the back, I had removed all of the decoration and painted the walls light silver. I felt more at ease there. My feet carried me to the bookshelf first. I skimmed the tomes I had collected, and finally decided on one. With the lamp turned on at the desk, I sat and began to analyze Sun Tzu's Art of War.  
  



	3. Glimmer of Hope

Eh? That's curious...  
  
There, slipped under my door, was a slip of paper. It couldn't be the mail; they leave that in front of the door. I bent down to pick it up. As I unfolded it, my mind ran through the possibilities. Perhaps it was a mentally ill fan, or some girl wanting my autograph. The reality of the piece of paper surprised me.  
  
Almasty's. 13:00. That was the message scrawled on the slip.  
  
I would have dismissed it as one of my earlier suspicions, but a small insignia was drawn on the right side of the slip. It depicted a human, with wings sprouting from it's back and hands outstretched.  
  
I shivered at the sight, and my stomach felt tight. I had the same design burnt onto my left palm. I always kept a glove on my hand to hide it from view; no one could have seen it. This has to be a joke, or something. It can't be real. I'm dreaming. If it was real, then this is what I've been hoping for these past two years. But instead, I felt dread.  
  
I forced my mind to stop flying. This person knows me, and probably more about my past than I do. Almasty's was a bar in the west sector of town, quite a long way from my apartment. I glanced at the clock in the entry way, to find that it was 10:00. I had plenty of time, so I decided to shower before leaving. The water would also serve to shake my grogginess and sharpen my senses. Whoever or whatever this was, there was a chance it wouldn't be friendly. I would be ready for that.  
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My hand stung. I was going to have to fix the dashboard, too. I made a mental note to have reinforced glass put over my speedometer next time. But that didn't fix the traffic jam, or my bleeding palm.  
  
I had fretted over the strange note the whole ride here. And I had a lot of time to fret about it. There were so many possibilities, and I felt so out of control. I hate to not be in control.  
  
I glanced at my watch for the hundredth time, and had to suppress the urge to yell various explicative comments about the nefarious road systems in New York. I had ten miles to go, and at the current rate of traffic, it looked like I might be there in forty minutes if I was lucky. This whole situation makes me feel vulnerable, and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. I sighed in resignation and compromised by letting my mind run through building scenarios that would maximize travel efficiency.  
  
Seconds after my mind began to break through estimate numbers, the traffic shifted. It looked as if the traffic lights had finally decided to cooperate. I pushed my car to the limit, and reached Almasty's with seconds left to spare. I burst out of the driver's seat like a caged animal and dashed to the bar.  
  
Almasty's was an average slum bar, and it came with your usual assortment of drunks, whores, and thugs. The air was so rancid that many individuals had complained that their nostrils were being raped while entering the place. Green fluorescent lights glowed eerily over the tables crowding the bar floor. Everything else was cast in an unnatural darkness cultivated partially by the clouds of smoke in the room.  
  
This rapid change in surroundings made my head reel. This bar was nowhere near my normal environment. That combined with the fog of cigarette smoke and illegal drugs would slow my reaction time. Judging by the looks of this bar's denizens, I could probably take them all in a fair fight, but looks can be deceiving and bar fights are never fair. I didn't know what was expected of me from mystery contact, so I sat at a table in a more well-lit part of the bar.  
  
I had just sat down when a man got up from the bar. He turned and limped quickly in the direction of my table. On his red, puckered face he had a dense beard and large mustache. In fact, everything about him was large. Muscles bulged on his arms and chest, accompanied by a small potbelly somewhat hidden by his leather jacket. He had as thick a neck as any I had ever seen, but it was partially covered by his mane. His left leg probably suffered some sort of ailment, as he was favoring his right side.  
  
As he neared, he muttered in a deep, accented voice, "Ye mus be de AC jockey, Pent." I nodded, quite stunned at the idea that this was the man who had contacted me. I didn't say a word, though, and indicated he should have a seat. He pulled out the chair across from my table and collapsed in it. After a few seconds, he scooted up and brought his chair with him.  
  
"Now den, ye'll be wanderin why ye got told teh come ere. Now it wuddin I who wrote ye, but dis guy. 'Parently, he's wantin teh speak teh ye. He wants ye teh go teh de 'bandoned Mirage warehouses on de outskirts o' New York. Ye know de place?" I nodded, indicating I did. "Good. Head dere right away if ye're wantin to, he should be dere."  
  
By the nine hells, I hated this being led around on a leash junk. The whole situation had just slipped from my grasp, eradicating any hope of leverage I ever had on it. I quietly thanked the large man, and left the place, glad to be rid of its intoxicating influences.  
  
Should I follow up on this, or just go home? Answers are well worth my trouble. Hell, who am I kidding... my curiosity will win in the end no matter how I fight. I slipped into my car and started the engine. 


	4. History

Just for kicks, here's Pent's AC, Lavaitean. You can't do this in the game, but Pent's model is modified so the MG is in the left hand, and the blade is on the right.  
  
Head: CHD-SKYEYE  
Core: CCM-00-STO  
Arms: MAL-GALE  
Legs: CCM-D2-SNSK  
Booster: CBT-FLEET  
FCS: VREX-ND-2  
Radiator: RMR-ICICLE  
Inside: None  
Extension: KWEL-SILENT  
Back R. Unit: None  
Back L. Unit: CWC-GNS-15  
L. Arm Unit: MWG-MG/1000  
R. Arm Unit: MLB-MOONLIGHT  
Optional Units: OP-INTENSIFY  
  
Color Scheme:

Head: Base: R-0, G-150, B-100  
Aid: R-0, G-150, B-100  
Optional: R-0, G-40, B-110  
Detail: all 0  
Joint: all 200

Core: Base: R-0, G-150, B-100  
Aid: R-0, G-40, B-110  
Optional: All 0  
Detail: R-20, G-70, B-95  
Joint: R-20, G-70, B-95

Arms: Base: R-20, G-150, B-100  
Aid: R-0, G-40, B-110  
Optional: R-20, G-70, B-95  
Detail: All 0  
Joint: R-20, G-70, B-95

Legs: Base: R-0, G-150, B-100  
Aid: R-0, G-40, B-110  
Optional: R-75, G-75, B-75  
Detail: All 200  
Joint: R-20, G-70, B-95

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Mirage's abandoned warehouses stood like bastions of the city, silently standing watch. I parked my car at the entrance to the place and proceeded through the torn gate on foot. The buildings were originally a drab gray, but acid rain damage caused long yellow marks along the sides of the wall, giving it a striped appearance. Loading docks stuck out from the warehouse at equal intervals. It was easy to imagine this place bustling with activity, furiously producing AC parts to compete with Crest and Kisaragi.  
  
I passed the first building and reached the center of the warehouse plaza. The front door of the command building was open, so I figured that's where I was supposed to go. My footsteps echoed mightily off of the steel walls around me. Whoever was waiting for me knew that I was coming. However, though I didn't know what I was walking into, I didn't feel afraid.  
  
The doorway was finally in front of me. A glow crept from the portal, stopping where the slightly ajar door cut it off. I began to walk towards the door, but hesitated and stopped just before entering. What I could discover in here would change my life, without a doubt. The purpose of my life, or the part of it I remember, was to discover my past. I was now standing at the possible threshold of the answers I had sought for two years. But what will I find when I cross this threshold? I felt fear now, for the first time in my memory. The things I find in that room could destroy me. It could destroy all of me.  
  
I pushed through these thoughts as I pushed through the door. Fear would not hold me. I wouldn't live my life in the dark anymore. No, I couldn't. I'm not certain of what I'll find in that room, but the thing I am certain of is that if I pass this opportunity up, I will regret it for the rest of my life.  
  
I stepped into a darkened office. A swiveling chair with a large backrest was turned away from me behind a mahogany desk. A computer monitor sat on the desk and cast a blue glow on the chair and the wall beyond it. The desk was clear other than the monitor. Three large file cabinets lined the left side of the wall, each easily capable of holding a thousand documents. The fear was gone, but in it's place confusion festered. What the hell was this about?  
  
The chair swung around, and a small man came into view. I suddenly had a strong feeling of deja-vu. I knew this man. His thin face, his lopsided grin, and especially his eyes, which shone with an unusual intelligence. He chuckled once, and grinned even more. Then, he spoke. "Hello, brother."  
  
With that statement, the world fell apart. Images flooded my mind. I saw white halls and white rooms, and men in white coats. I felt fear and anger and happiness and anxiousness and contentment all at the same time. I came to the realization that there were more of me. Even more things appeared in my head, too fast to recognize. The things... they were drowning me. I panicked and struggled to breathe, but couldn't.  
  
I fought and fought, and everything went black.

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I was in a soft chair. I moved around a bit, and found that I was in a tight area. The word cockpit sprang to mind. I realized where I was then, but I still didn't know how I'd gotten there. I glanced around at the familiar surroundings. I think I muttered something, because another voice spoke out of nowhere to me.  
  
Part of my consciousness told me that this was a dream, but the fact didn't really seem to matter. Besides, I had to reach... somewhere. There was always something to do, some goal to achieve. I just had to figure out what it was, and do it. But then there was the voice. I had to deal with the voice...  
  
"Who is that? What are you doing here?" I asked.  
  
There was a second of quietness, and then the voice spoke again.  
  
"Statement – I am Dalmin. I am this Armored Core's onboard artificial intelligence. My functions include interfacing with the systems of this Armored Core to enhance performance, providing detailed combat intelligence to the pilot, as well as performing maintenance checks and other such menial duties."  
  
I thought about that for a moment. Then I asked it who I was.  
  
"Statement – You are Master Pent."  
  
So my name was Pent. It did seem familiar. I continued my questioning. "Um, Dalmin, you said you enhance performance. What does this Armored Core thing do?"  
  
"Statement – An Armored Core consists of a central unit, or core, and the various enhancements and required parts that attach to them. They are massive humanoid vehicular combat units that are exceedingly adaptable to a large amount of combat situations. Would you like to hear the history of the Armored Core, and how they have played a role in recent history?"  
  
I said that I would. Knowledge is an essential weapon... though I don't know where I heard that.  
  
"Very well, sir. They were created for military application approximately one hundred and thirty-three years ago. However, when the Third World War scoured almost all of Earth's surface, mankind descended into the subterranean realm to escape the nuclear holocaust. They lived under the control of the massive computer known as The Controller. At this point, all form of government and their militaries collapsed. They were not needed, as The Controller dictated all matters of all human's lives.  
  
"In that age, the three factions of power at that time, the corporations of Crest, Mirage, and Kisaragi, employed a group of mercenaries, called Ravens, to battle for supremacy. All of these Ravens piloted Armored Core units. This way of life continued for many years, resulting in countless human casualties. But then, a new power emerged. A group of revolutionaries known as the Union rebelled against The Controller, and a massive war began. One of the Ravens, already well-known for his skill, played a large part in the battles against the Controller. Though he faced terrible opposition he prevailed and eventually destroyed The Controller. That hero was known by the name Wolfe.  
  
"When The Controller was destroyed, approximately forty-two years ago, the subterranean world the people had built was falling apart. All of mankind was evacuated to the surface, where a miraculous cleansing of land had taken place while humans lived in their underground shelter. This migration is known as the Ascension. They rebuilt and prospered on the surface. In the first few years after the Ascension, the corporations still ruled. Soon after, however, their power began to lessen. Crest dissolved completely without The Controller to aid them, but Mirage and Kisaragi are both still major players in the events of the continent. The Union evolved into the Orin Party and seized power. They set up a democratic government, and renamed the continent of North America to Orinia.  
  
"It was discovered that more underground strongholds existed. Orinia sent out search and rescue squads organized from the ranks of the Ravens. The hero Wolfe led the expedition to the Asian continent. On that mission, however, he disappeared. No one has seen him since. Even without his help, within the next few years, the Asian, European, African and South American continents had surface colonies. The Raven mercenary group continued to exist, and the Arena that they fought in became a global attraction. It is now the year 2187 AD. You are in an Armored Core cockpit right now."  
  
I soaked in all of this information. It all sounded right. But what do I do now?

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I opened my eyes. The man who was in the chair earlier was crouching over my prone body. He looked worried. I thought about saying something, but nothing came to mind. I managed a strangled, "Huh?"  
  
He grinned, and looked relieved. "You had me concerned," he said. "All of a sudden you just swooned and fell over. Part of that may be my fault, though. Do you think you can stand?"  
  
I told him I probably could. He stood and helped me to my feet.  
  
"I have this feeling that I know you. Who are you?" I questioned.  
  
"You can call me Vahn. It's good that you recognize me. We spent many years of our lives together. But you'll get those memories back soon. Right now, we need to leave the premises of this warehouse as soon as..."  
  
"Wait," I interrupted. "Why? And what's with all of this deceptive secret agent crap you've been pulling on me?"  
  
"All will be explained soon enough. You need to trust me for now. You want to learn about your past, right? The only way you're finding anything out is if you come with me. Now come on!" He ran out of the door. With an exasperated sigh, I followed him.

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I'm hard at work on part 5. Not that many people are reading and anticipating, but, y'know...


	5. Reunion

Vahn led me behind the control office. As I turned the corner, I saw where he was heading: an expensive-looking black car. I slowed my stride to get a better look at it.  
  
"Wow," I said breathlessly. "Is that yours?" It was so beautiful, and the curves were so right. The thing looked like it could break 150 mph with ease. It felt like I was looking at a gleaming new AC. But then, this car would probably fit inside an AC's foot.  
  
"It is," he replied. "Now hurry and get in. You can admire it later." I took his advice and jumped into the passenger seat. The interior was mostly colored light silver. The seats were nice and comfy, too. Also, along the dashboard, a series of three buttons were lined up and down the middle.  
  
"What are those for?" I asked.  
  
He chuckled and said, "One is for rockets, the other two for air conditioning and heating." He glanced at me and, noting my expression, assured me that it was true. I must have looked pretty shocked. Who is this guy, and what does he want with me?  
  
He turned the ignition and the car started with a smooth roar. After putting it into gear, he tore out of the Mirage courtyard. I had a few seconds of regret about leaving my car behind, but it passed soon enough. It isn't everyday that I get to learn about my past. I decided it was better not to say anything and let him do the talking. Unfortunately, he didn't speak, but I was too nervous to push the subject. About fifteen minutes later, we pulled over next to another large building on the outskirts of New York. Beyond it was still, barren wasteland.  
  
He got out, and I hurried to follow him. We came to a thin metal door. His hand disappeared inside his pocket for an instant and came out with a small key clutched in its grasp. He used it on the doorknob and swung the door open.  
  
What was inside brought a gasp to my lips. For quite a ways in both directions, Armored Cores lined the walls. Each was of a different make and model. I even saw one with the exact parts and paint job of Lavaitean. But Vahn didn't wait for me. He was already a distance from me, walking into the middle of the complex.  
  
My feet echoed off the metal floor as I caught up with him. He reached the center of the floor and pulled a small black object from his left pocket and pressed it. Immediately steel guard rails rose silently from the floor and surrounded us. Walls suddenly rose around us... or were we descending? My question was answered when we stopped, and I stumbled off it after Vahn and into a lit room filled with computers.  
  
As I entered, a woman with chin length red hair stood and walked toward us. She had a thin build, and was of medium height. Her chiseled body was covered in a white jumpsuit. Her blue eyes shone from her angular face. Overall, she was quite beautiful. She smiled confidently at me, and turned to Vahn.  
  
"Is this him?" she asked in a strong contralto. Vahn nodded. Seconds later, she was hugging me. I was a little surprised by this, but I let her have her embrace. She stepped back and looked at me.  
  
"It's so good to see you! How have you been, Pent?"  
  
I shrugged, not a little confused. "I've been alright, I guess."  
  
She frowned. She looked at Vahn. "You haven't told him anything yet?" she asked, a little perturbed.  
  
Vahn shrugged, and replied, "I had to get him out of the warehouses as soon as possible. They might have caught on to our location. And besides, I figured that it should be you who told him."  
  
She nodded. Then she turned her attention back to me, and with a big grin, she told me to come with her. She led me into a smaller room, with a couch on the opposite wall. She sat down and motioned for me to join her.  
  
"Alright. All of this will be hard to take in at first. We might not want to go over everything at once, and we probably won't need to. But first, let me show you something." With this comment, she turned over her left hand and showed me her palm. Engraved in black was the same design that was on my palm. "I can tell by your face that you recognize this. You have one on your left hand also, don't you?"  
  
I nodded agreement, though hesitantly. She continued. "This insignia is only found on the hands of eight humans alive right now. Vahn also has one on his palm. We are three of the Eight, brothers and sister. Is this sounding familiar?"  
  
My brain was still trying to catch up with all that I had experienced. Vahn, this woman, they were my siblings? And there were five more? What does this mark mean?  
  
Suddenly, a ray of white searing light spiked through my head. I think I shouted in pain, but the hurt was gone instantly. In its place, I viewed a memory.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------  
  
I was young, but not too young, perhaps sixteen or seventeen. An instructor stood in front of me, telling me of the training I was about to engage in. I was to destroy a mixed-unit phalanx made up of AI-ran light mobile combat vehicles known as MTs, floating drone defense units and two heavy-weapons MTs. Avelina would engage with me, as usual.  
  
After the instructor was done, he waved me towards the docking bay. I took the hint, and headed through the west door. I emerged onto a catwalk into a large room which housed eight ACs. All were radically different, as according to the preferences of the Eight. Mine was second in line on the catwalk which I was on. I approached it, slightly admiring its dark green and blue hue. It was a bit of a paradox, how such a beautiful, sleek thing was so capable of destruction. I had to admit, though, that the grenade launcher folded at the back of Lavaitean's left shoulder helped dispel the image.  
  
Avelina's AC was across from mine. I saw her walk along the parallel catwalk, her red hair bobbing in time with her stride. She noticed me from across the way, and waved. I was too far away to tell, but I was sure she was smiling. I felt a small grin appear on my face thinking about it. Avelina had always been different from the rest of us. She was optimistic and always happy, though they had no concern for our happiness. I guess some of her happiness had rubbed off of me, too.  
  
I cleared my mind of these thoughts, as I was taught to do. There was no place for emotion in combat. I popped open the AC cockpit by means of a small computer console. The hatch silently slid up off the opening. I entered the AC and sat in the command chair. My hands worked efficiently to prep the systems. In a few seconds, we were ready for combat.  
  
The HUD and main view screen appeared in front of the control console. The cockpit took on an eerie blue glow as its light illuminated the dark area. The sight displayed on the screen expanded to give me a 220 degree view of the docking bay. Seraph, Avelina's AC, was powering up across from me. It gleamed brilliant white, with black trim along the harsher edges of it. Its arms had built-in machine-guns. A missile launcher was attached to its right shoulder, and I could see the modifications on the sides and legs of her AC that provided the machine-gun arms additional ammunition.  
  
I manipulated the controls gently, causing Lavaitean to slowly step forward. At the end of the AC dock, I turned Lavaitean and we walked out of the docking bay and into the mission area. Avelina in Seraph followed me. The clanging of metal on metal echoed through the compact docking bay. Like Titans, we took the field of battle unafraid.  
  
I opened up the comm link to Avelina. "You ready?"  
  
She uttered a sound of disbelief. "Of course I am, Pent. I'm always ready for a skirmish. We have to be, don't we?"  
  
I soundlessly conceded the argument. In a softer voice, she said, "Why did they separate us earlier? It feels like a week since I've seen you."  
  
"It's only been three days. But yeah, I'm curious too. We've never been consciously apart for that long since before I can remember." Avelina and I were wing mates. We had been together since birth for all I know, and though we slept in separate rooms, we spent almost all of our waking hours together.  
  
We both stepped onto the training room's floor. Huge pillars supported the room, which was equally massive. Walls rose from the stone floor, creating plenty of cover to use. A crackling voice cut over the radio system informing me that the enemies had been released. As if on cue, the targeting system picked up multiple targets moving forward through the layers of steel slabs that were between us.  
  
Avelina immediately hit the boost and shot into the air. Once considerably airborne, she glided to the left entrance of the metal maze. I followed her cue and went for the right. As I was nearing the gap in the steel, I primed Lavaitean's grenade launcher. It rotated to firing position and the aiming system re-calibrated to reflect the shooting style of the explosive device.  
  
I drifted into the gap. There was one entrance to the main section of the metal maze from here, placed right between the two gaps on the opposite wall. Seraph was already next to it, covering me if anything chose to assault me as I neared. Avelina's AC was extremely fast, but couldn't withstand much of a beating. Not that it mattered, as her piloting skills were not something to be scoffed at. In a few seconds, I had reached the other side of the entrance.  
  
I clicked the comm once as a signal we had worked out earlier. As one, we turned into the gap, guns bristling... and were greeted with silence.  
  
"That's curious. Usually those MTs attack immediately," I said into the radio. My targeting system was getting no locks... "They've disappeared. Avelina?"  
  
I got no answer. I tried my comm a few times, but it was no good. The radio was shot. There must be a jamming field over the middle of this arena. That would be why no targets were showing up on the radar, and why my locks had disappeared. Metal obstructions were strewn about the center of the combat arena, providing plenty of places for the MTs to hide. We would have to proceed carefully. The MTs were probably already in position, ready to strike at us when we were vulnerable.  
  
The world slowed. My mind raced through the situation, mapping the terrain, predicting enemy positions, running scenarios of ambushes, and reaching conclusions. I laughed out loud. The MTs had the upper hand, but only for the moment. They underestimate us. The scales would not be tipped in their direction for much longer.  
  
I raised Lavaitean's MG. I hated to waste bullets, but I had plenty, and this would hinder some of the MTs advantages. My finger danced on the trigger, sending bursts skyward. After about a minute, and two hundred rounds, the central light fixtures were all destroyed. The skirmish would take place in complete darkness, as the lights in the other areas of the maze were cut off by the walls. All ACs are equipped with high-quality night-vision systems which makes complete darkness seem as bright as day, and in full color, too. MTs have second-rate equipment, the stereotypical "green" night-vision, which would slow down the reactions of the enemy pilots.  
  
When that was finished, I turned toward Avelina to make sure she was looking my way. When I affirmed that she was, I turned and boosted right along the wall behind us. I was nearing a place in which I was certain an ambush would take place. Considering the forces the instructor mentioned there are only three places in this entire arena facility where an ambush capable of dealing any serious damage to either of our ACs could take place. I set down outside of the open area's perimeter, and began a search around the metal structures that the MTs would have sprung from, unleashing torrents of shots at our helpless Cores.  
  
Sure enough, there were a few beds of the potential threats, but we bore down on them so quickly they didn't have time to react. A few grenade shells and machine gun shredded the first two bands. I thought for a moment, and pinpointed the location of the inevitable third band, behind a smaller crate which could provide cover fire for the other two bands without putting themselves at risk. I maneuvered Lavaitean around the right corner of the crate. I hoped Avelina had taken the cue and ran around the left side.  
  
As I turned the corner, a bazooka round whizzed past Lavaitean's chest. I hit the boost and began to strafe towards the area where the firer was. A second shot was unloaded and missed, but just barely. A stout, shield-bearing MT stood defiantly between two metal slabs, firing desperately at me. A loud boom, and it was consumed by a massive explosion as my grenade round hit it square in the chest. I zipped around its corner, and helped Avelina finish off the last two units.  
  
I stopped for a moment to get my bearings, which was a mistake. An explosion lifted Lavaitean off its feet, and we crashed down hard onto the steel floor. I saw Avelina take to the air, and heard the sounds of rapid gunfire. Lavaitean righted himself, and we turned to see fire burning in empty air. The fire fell to the ground, and the mystery resolved itself when the heavy-weapons MT's cloaking device failed, revealing its large metal chassis torn by Avelina's multitudes of bullets.  
  
I wanted to thank Avelina, but there was no way to do so now. It'd have to wait until later. For now, I had to stay focused on the situation at hand. Or else something worse than being knocked down might happen.  
  
My vision blurred then, and everything dissolved to nothingness. 


	6. Lanterns

I awoke on a bed just large enough to fit my body. A sigh escaped my lips. How long had I been asleep? I rubbed at my eyes with my fingers. White lights popped inside my head. My fingers slipped down to the side of my face. There was quite a bit of hair; I must have been out of it for at least three days. Tentatively, I opened my eyes.

Luckily, the lights were dimmed. I noticed a figure sitting in a chair beside my bed. A warm, contralto voice confirmed it was Avelina.

"How do you feel?"

I groaned. "Tired as hell."

She smiled. Oh, it was good to see her smile. My mind caught up then. A torrent of memories floated into the recesses of my head, all familiar but none known. It's strange, having so much knowledge but not having processed any of it. There's so much of it... overwhelming... I was dimly aware of myself taking faster gulps of air, my breath rate increasing as I began to panic. But there was so much, so...

Conflict rose in my brain, fighting for control of the spaces that were not swamped. Control... breathe... remember... I was losing it. Everything was being submerged. There was no time; all of it was fading rapidly, smoothly, and completely.

_STOP!_

My breathing became less shallow and my muscles stopped bunching. The flood receded, allowing me to think freely again. What just happened?

Avelina's voice came then.

"Pent, can you hear me?" I nodded faintly. "Alright. What you've just experienced is a phenomenon we call Relapse. It happens when all of your hidden memories are suddenly unleashed all at once. This barely ever happens to those who suffer from amnesia, but for those who lose their memories because of conventional means, it happens regularly."

I was a little perturbed by her words. "What do you mean when you say those who have lost their memories through conventional means?"

"For the last two years, lock nodes, which are a series of small, interconnected nanobots, have been stimulating a certain area in your brain which repressed all of your memory functions. When your brain realized it couldn't use that section anymore, it started feeding the new memories, the ones you gained after the nanobots were activated, into a new section of your brain. That's how you could remember things that happened over the past two years. When those lock nodes were disabled, all of the things they held behind them were unleashed on the rest of you."

I frowned, still blinking my eyes. "Huh. So these things inside my head, these lock nodes, they were disabled. How?"

She continued. "Often, when things from a person's past appear, the glands in the brain stimulate and attempt to bring up scraps of memory that includes that person, place or anything else. When you saw Vahn for the first time, you blacked out. That was when the lock nodes began to malfunction. When you came here, and you discovered even more about yourself and your past, and your brain fought to bring them to the surface. Eventually, it completely disabled the lock nodes, and the stress from that shut down the rest of your body. You entered a coma. You probably dreamed, but very little of your brain was active. When you woke up, your old memories threatened to submerge the rest of you. However, you fought against them, and they have been brought under control. You will have to work at it, but eventually you will be able to recall those memories as you do any others."

I rubbed my temples as I absorbed all of this. I then looked over at Avelina with one burning question.

"Who am I?"

Avelina's expression softened. She looked almost... sad. Then she answered in a controlled, even voice.

"You are Pent, number three of eight involved in the Reign project. Vahn and I, we are numbers seven and four respectively."

"What is this project?" I asked.

She sighed, and continued her explanations. "The Reign project was conceived and ran by a scientist employed by Crest, one of the three old super-corporations. They were the ones most dependant on the Controller, and they collapsed just as it did. The Reign project itself was continued by a renegade shard of the corporation. They stole the embryos of a few 'volunteers'. Through gene splicing, they enhanced these embryos to be beyond normal human capabilities. They nurtured the embryos, and they grew. The fetuses were 'born', twelve of them. After the first month, only the Eight had survived. From the age of four, these children were trained to be soldiers. Their natural abilities and skills were developed. When they had reached the age of eighteen, the Eight were, together, the most powerful band of warriors on the known Earth. But their involvement in the project did not end there. Three were selected of the Eight, a pair of wing mates and one of the two Eight trained as a lone warrior, to go through lock node installation. After the surgery, they were left to survive on their own outside the site of the project. They did, of course, monitor them, but it was secondary to what was considered the main project; the continued sheltered advancement of the other five. You, I and Vahn are the three."

That explains a lot. My visions and my ability... this must be the truth. But there's more to know. Was the birth... no, creation of us an injustice? What was the purpose of the project? What do I do next?

Avelina placed her hand on my shoulder reassuringly. I looked up at her, looked into her eyes. There was a deep connection between us. I didn't have access to all of my thoughts, but from what I had I could tell we used to be very close. Now that I knew my past, there was no way I was abandoning her.

I carefully got up on my elbows, and then moved up into a sitting position. I grinned, and said, "I guess I'm staying then." She smiled and wrapped her arms around me. As I was being embraced, I couldn't help but think that I was home.


End file.
